It had been exactly a month since I called off my wedding. A month of sleepless nights, awkward explanations to friends, and forcing myself to smile through it all. I thought I was finally starting to heal—until tonight.
I had only stopped by the restaurant to grab some takeout, something easy and comforting. The kind of meal that would let me curl up in bed and forget, just for a little while, how my life had derailed. But as I waited near the counter, my eyes landed on a familiar face.
My sister, Alina, sitting at a corner table.
Across from her? Jason. My ex-fiancé.
My stomach dropped. What the hell was she doing with him?
Just as I was about to turn and leave, I saw it—her sliding an envelope across the table. Jason picked it up, glanced inside, and nodded.
I stepped closer, my pulse hammering in my ears. I needed to hear what was going on.
Alina’s voice was low but clear. “Our dad asked me to.”
I froze. Dad? My dad? What did he have to do with this? And why the hell was my sister handing Jason money?
Jason’s jaw tensed as he tucked the envelope into his jacket. “Just tell him this isn’t enough,” he muttered. “He knows what I could do if I wanted to.”
Alina sighed, rubbing her temples. “I told him, Jason. But this is all he could pull together for now.”
I felt like the ground beneath me had vanished. My dad was paying off my ex? Jason was threatening him? None of this made sense. And yet, there it was—happening right in front of me.
I turned and walked out, my hands shaking so badly I nearly dropped my phone as I dialed Alina’s number.
She picked up on the first ring. “Hei, I can’t talk right now—”
“Damn right you can. Outside. Now.”
A minute later, she stepped out, her coat hastily thrown over her shoulders. The guilt on her face was unbearable.
“Talk,” I demanded.
She took a deep breath. “Dad came to me a week ago. Jason… he threatened to ruin you. To expose something about your work, something that could destroy your business.”
I frowned. “That makes no sense. I never told Jason anything about my business, Alina. He used to ask, sure, but I never gave him details.”
Alina looked miserable. “Well, he thinks he has something. And he convinced Dad that if he sells it to the right people, you’ll lose everything.”
I let out a bitter laugh. “And instead of talking to me, Dad just starts paying him off?”
“He was trying to protect you. He didn’t want you to deal with it.”
I shook my head. “Unbelievable.”
And then, something inside me snapped. Jason thought he could squeeze money out of my family? That he could make me pay for walking away?
Not a chance.
The next morning, I called Jason. He didn’t even sound surprised to hear from me.
“Took you long enough,” he said smugly. “Want to talk terms?”
I clenched my jaw. “I want my family’s money back.”
He chuckled. “That’s not how this works, sweetheart. But if you’re willing to negotiate—”
“I’ll meet you at Eastwood Café in an hour,” I interrupted. “Bring the envelope.”
When I arrived, he was already there, a coffee in one hand, his other arm slung over the back of his chair like he owned the place.
“Didn’t think you’d have the guts to face me,” he mused.
I slid into the chair opposite him. “Let’s cut the crap, Jason. You’re bluffing.”
His smile faltered. “Am I?”
“You don’t have anything. I never shared my business secrets with you. And you know why? Because I never trusted you enough.”
His fingers tightened around his cup. “You sure about that?”
I leaned forward. “Go ahead. Try selling whatever you think you have. See how far you get.”
He narrowed his eyes. “You think I won’t?”
“I think you already did,” I shot back. “I think you went to my competitors, and they laughed in your face. That’s why you came crawling back, trying to shake down my family instead.”
His silence told me everything.
I smirked. “See, Jason, I built my business on hard work, strategy, and knowing exactly who to trust. And you? You were never part of that equation.”
His jaw clenched. “You’re making a mistake.”
“No, Jason,” I said, standing up. “You did.”
I grabbed the envelope, turned and walked away, leaving him there, seething.
A week later, I got the confirmation I had been waiting for.
One of my business contacts reached out, laughing about some desperate guy who tried to sell them ‘inside information’ on my company.
“He thought he had something valuable,” they said. “But it was all nonsense. Poor idiot.”
I didn’t even have to ask who it was.
Jason had bet everything on the idea that I had been stupid enough to trust him. And in the end, he had nothing.
As for my dad, I made it clear—no more secrets. No more paying off men who thought they could control me.
I was done playing by anyone else’s rules.
And damn, it felt good.
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